


Shorel'aran

by Hariti Khatri (EnderDracolich)



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Romance, Tragedy, Violence, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnderDracolich/pseuds/Hariti%20Khatri
Summary: A short story about a Highborne elf and his long-lost lover, who are reunited unexpectedly after millennia apart. (Features VORE)
Kudos: 2





	Shorel'aran

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This story contains fatal vore and other potentially upsetting themes. Please check the tags and read at your own discretion.

_ Red skies ,filled with tar-black smoke. Tall buildings trembled and shattered, their foundations broken beneath them. The screams of elves and demons echoed through the night. steel screeched against steel. The smell of blood and brimstone clogged his nostrils.He watched in horror as a wave, taller than the mountains, surged toward the city, glowing with an eldritch and hateful light.  _

  


_ Soon, it would all be over.  _

  
The sand was soft under Dalan’s feet. The elf wiggled his toes absentmindedly, pressing the white grains beneath them, feeling the cool damp sensation. His nostrils flared as he sniffed 

the sharp, salty scent of the sea, and he sighed deeply, and stared out over the azure expanse. 

  


The waves lapped gently against the rocky cove and gulls cried out overhead. Small crabs shuffled along the beach and scuttled in and out of tidepools; the birds and sea-life were Dalan’s only company. As he peered into the shallows, he could see the tops of marble columns poking out of the waves, could discern the faint shapes of ancient statues shimmering underneath the surface, and could feel the tingle of old magic in the air. This had been his home, once. 

  


The ruins of Eldarath. The city of Dalan’s birth. Now nothing more than rubble, the ruins were a faint echo of fallen grandeur that spoke of what was, and what will never be again. His people had built the city, and they had destroyed it, driven by the hubris of their queen. Dalan had had friends and family on both sides of the conflict, and thus had been one of the wretched few who had stayed uninvolved. Dalan had stood aside and watched his world burn and crumble.

  


He was alone, homeless, and hopeless — staring into the distance. The day that his city fell into the sea, he had come here to watch the waves settle over the ruins. Each morning since then, repeated the pilgrimage, watching the waves rise and fall. 

  


To remember.

  


He recalled every smile, every laugh, every happy moment of his life. The games he had played, the stories he told, the quiet moments he shared — all with people who were long gone. 

  


Yet he remained. Watching. Waiting.

  


Today would be his last day of pilgrimage; there was nothing for him here. His home was gone and it was time to finally let go. He turned to leave, disquieted and unsatisfied, but paused, a small splash stopping him. His ears tilted, listening  — it was probably nothing; yet he had to know. Dalan turned, pained to look back one more time after resolving to move on, and saw nothing. He cast his eyes back to the water, nostalgic. He saw fish flitting in-and-out of windows and cracks in the ancient stone, saw flashes of scales and movement in the water. 

  


Something struck him in the chest.

  
The elf fell backward, the sound of feminine giggling dancing in his ears, as the beach rose up to greet him. He felt his head hit the ground - hard - and then darkness swirled around him, engulfing his vision. He gasped and his mind faded into blackness.

  


Dalan awoke with a scream and his eyes flashed open, his blood splattering as a trident was pulled from his chest. The pain seared like fire. He and looked up to the figure holding the weapon, to the green scales and orange fins, clawed fingers and delicate wrists. Then he looked into his attacker’s face, and blinked in confusion. She was a naga, that much was clear, with a fair elven face, ringed by fish-like frills — but there was more. 

  
He recognized her. From someplace deep inside, a name flashed in his mind, and he tried to call out, but choked on his own blood. He coughed and twisted, and tried to rise, only to find her strong tail pinning him to the ground. His body was dying, pain seared him like fire, but the only though in his mind was the name - her name. It was her - he was certain, more certain than he had ever been of anything. 

  
Dalan reached to his belt and pulled a small vial from his belt; a small red potion, which he pushed to his lips before she could stop him, gulping it down and feeling the warm tingle as it mended his wounds. It was not enough, not nearly, to save him, but it did what he wanted. He gasped, air rushing into his chest, and he shouted:

  
“Auridana,”

  


The naga recoiled, gasping like she had been shocked, and put a hand over her mouth. She looked down at the elf, her eyes scanning his face, taking in his familiar features with growing dread. He tried to sit up, wincing in pain as he did so, the wound in his chest tearing wider. They locked eyes, and he managed to gasp her name again. 

  
Auridana slithered closer, looming over him again, but this time she reached down not to attack, but to offer him a hand. To pull him from the sand, her strong arms doing what he could not. She lifted him into her embrace, holding him close, as he bled out. He shook his head and tried to speak, but the words would not come. Physical pain coupled with his strong emotions, and he could not speak. Instead, he merely gazed into her eyes, as tears welled up there. She shook her head slightly and leaned in, to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. Her black lips pressed against his, the taste of the sea filling his mouth, as she lowered him to the ground. 

  


The naga lay beside him, as he trembled and shook, his lifeblood running onto the sand, and she opened her mouth to speak: “S-shorel a-” She choked as she began to sob, her final farewell caught in her throat, as she watched her husband die. She had killed him. Skewered him like a fish, like any other prey, without even seeing his face.  
The weight of what she had done fell upon her shoulders like a load of bricks, and she collapsed, sobbing onto his chest as it heaved and trembled. She groaned in grief and horror, letting primal sounds escape her lips, as the life faded from him. She put her hands on his chest and sat up, and tried to heal him. She channeled her power into his wound, trying to stitch the shredded flesh back together, but to no avail -she had torn his lung to ribbons. 

  
He looked up at her, shook his head, and whispered. She could not hear the words, but she understood the meaning. He wanted her to let him go. Aurela trembled and then hugged him, and put her lips to his ear, and whispered back. She would not leave him to die on this gods-forsaken beach. She had left him here once — not again. 

  
He nodded softly. She would not leave him, so he would go with her. Into the sea. Down into a watery grave, to find his peace at last, held in her arms. His other choice was to watch her slither away and to die alone. 

  


They were in agreement. Or so he thought, when he nodded his head weakly, to her pleas to take him with her. 

  
When she tilted her head and opened her maw, he black lips parting to reveal her sharp fangs, he reconsidered for a moment. As the realization of her true intent flashed across his mind, for just a moment, his survival instincts made him thrash in her grasp. It only lasted a moment, though, before his pain reminded him that he was dead already, and before his longing made that black-rimmed portal seem strangely appealing. He would end his life _within_ her, and they would never be apart again. His wait was over. 

  
Her black lips pressed against his face, and the smell of seawater and fish filled his nostrils, as she began to devour him alive. He didn’t struggle, didn’t resist, as he felt her sharp fangs scrape past his chin and scalp, as his head vanished into the darkness. She pulled him easily into her lips, her tail coiling around him in the sand, like a python coiling around some jungle beast. He was hers, and she would have him completely.

  
He felt her lips slip over his neck and collarbone, as she peeled his robes off his body with her tail, and felt her throat start to clench around the crown of his head. It was a warm, gentle embrace, and he sighed and relaxed in her maw, letting her handle him however she saw fit. Her tongue teased his chin, and slipped into his mouth, only for a moment, before she gulped and started to swallow. His ears pressed against the side of his head as he began the slick slide into her gullet. Auridana’s tail wound around his legs and torso, and helped to feed him into her maw. He quickly felt her warm, wet mouth pressing over his shoulders and biceps, as the peristaltic motions of her throat lulled him almost to sleep, pressing around his head. 

  
He could hear the blood rushing through her tissues, could feel her heart beating, and could hear the soft grumble of her stomach down below as he was eaten. It was comforting to hear the vigor of her body, to know she was alive and strong. To know that he would be helping to keep her that way. Perhaps being food wasn’t so bad, for the one he loved? He didn’t think so. 

  
He braced for the expected pain, as her lips reached his wounded chest, but was surprised when he found the saliva to be soothing, easing his pain as he was eaten, rather than irritating the wound further. After a few moments, he ceased to feel the pain at all, feeling only pleasure, as her lips pressed down around his abdomen. His muscles relaxed in her embrace, his body going limp, and she pulled her tail away, leaving only her mouth holding him. He wiggled his toes, feeling the cold air around them, as she started to press her mouth over his hips, engulfing him more fully. 

  
All the was left now were his legs. Auridana slowly and gently sat up and tilted her head back, putting a hand on her throat to feel him pass underneath the skin, and let gravity assist in gulping him down. The sandy soles of her feet offered her one last taste of him, before they too were gone, and he was completely inside her. She felt him slip into her long, serpentine stomach, settling into her coils, and one last tear ran down her cheek, before she smiled. It was bittersweet; she had taken his life, and yet - he had given it, willingly. Dalan truly loved her, and she him. 

  


She turned to gaze out over the waves, as she felt the bulge in her stomach wiggle and move, as he beloved settled in inside her. Her digestive system was slow, and he was surprisingly lively, moving around inside her like a large fish. She slithered toward the water, sliding under the waves with her prey, and swimming deep down to their former home. It seemed a poetic place to spend their last hours together, in the ruins of the place where they had spent so many happy nights. She knew Dalan would approve; after all, she  _ had  _ found him here, had she not? Lost in memory. 

  


Auridana and Dalan settled into a small crevice in the ruins where she could rest undisturbed, wrapping her arms around the slowly wiggling bulge in her tail, her face mere inches away from Dalan’s. She planted a gentle kiss on her scales, and then mouthed “Shorel'aran.” The word was silent under the waves, but as the bubbled drifted away, she could swear she heard a reply among the groans and gurgles of her stomach —  _ Goodbye _ . 

  


The word echoed in her mind with pleasant finality, as she drifted into sleep. 


End file.
